


It's Getting Easy Not to Suffer All the Time

by dls



Category: Captain America (Movies), Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1, Civil War Team Iron Man, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Happy!Tony, Humor, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pro-Accords, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 21:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9347465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dls/pseuds/dls
Summary: "Tony doesn’t like being handed things.""Even in bed?""Christine.""Fine, fine. Stephen insists on being addressed as doctor.""Even in bed?""Pepper."Or: 5 Times Pepper Potts and Christine Palmer Needed a Drink (or five) and the 1 Time They Didn't





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for these [two](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/21438.html?thread=54245566#t54245566) [prompts](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/21438.html?thread=54264510#t54264510).
> 
> References/Quotes:   
>  Title from "My Ritual" by Folk Implosion.

**One.**

Pepper first met Christine the same way she meets most people – at some kind of charitable function. They met backstage, Pepper was charming the host and covering for Tony's absence while Christine was double-checking the introduction to make sure they had used the correct title.

"Tony was so looking forward to this, he couldn't stop talking about your last party." Pepper leaned in, the playful glint in her eyes framed perfectly by a sly wink.

The host was suitably gratified by Pepper's compliment of the event and Tony's obvious enjoyment of his last one, that he didn't notice Pepper hadn't specified what Tony said nor explained why Tony wasn't there.

On the other side of the room, Christine handed the notes back to the assistant. "Stephen can be a bit touchy about how he's addressed." She said with fond exasperation, "Thanks for letting me look over this again."

When the host returned to the gathering crowd with his assistant in tow, it provided a clear line of sight between Pepper and Christine, and they shared a nod of recognition from one capable woman to another, followed by a wry grin only understood by those with extensive experiences with corralling  _eccentric_  men.

Christine was waiting for her drink when Pepper arrived at the open bar, her greeting died on her lips when she heard the host asking for another round of applause for ‘Mr. Strange' and barely resisted the urge to rest her head on the counter.

Pepper looked at her with mild interest, familiar with Christine's look of misery, wondering what could have happened. She got her answer when Stephen brusquely grabbed the microphone back from the host, knocking the unsuspecting man over in the process.

Whatever Stephen said, indignantly based on his strained expression, was drowned out by Tony crashing into the doorframe, halfway hammered though impeccably dressed.

Pepper and Christine exchanged a telling look before mobilizing to soothe the scandalized crowd and minimize the amount of press coverage for tomorrow's papers. Public opinion was especially important given Tony's upcoming Afghanistan trip.

They met up at the bar near the end of the event, Stephen was asked to leave after the  _alleged assault_  and Tony was fast asleep, stretched out across four chairs. 

"I think we can both use a drink." Pepper said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Or five."

 

**Two.**

It was nearly two years later when Pepper and Christine had a chance to say more than perfunctory greetings to each other at various fundraisers, awards, and presentations.

They ran into each other at an upscale jazz bar, which given the sheer number of establishments in New York, it was almost like fate.  _Stephen scoffed at the notion of destiny-led friendships and Tony ran algorithms to prove their meeting was highly probable given their similar professional status, stress level, and work schedule._

"Dr. Palmer." Pepper greeted.

"Please, call me Christine." She smiled, "Ms. Potts."

"Pepper, I insist." The bartender knew Pepper well enough to send over her usual martini without prompting along with Christine's drink.

"I assume Mr. Stark was somehow involved with this flavorful nickname?"

Pepper relaxed marginally at the chance to talk about Tony in a way not related to work, Iron Man, or their budding romance. "I'd say 10% on his part and 90% on mine, seeing how I was the one with the Mace."

"That sounds like a story I want to hear." Christine leaned in, her back cracking pleasantly with the motion. "In exchange, I'll buy this round and the next."

"Deal." The tension drained a bit more from her frame.

Christine tipped her glass in a light salute, "Congratulations, by the way, on your well-deserved promotion."

"Thank you. Though I wish it happened under  _different_  circumstances." The stiffness returned instantly, Pepper's body curling inward and her shoulders pushing back in a contradictory attempt to make her look smaller and bigger at the same time.

Christine hesitated, she didn't think her comment through. The Stark Expo footages were still playing on the news and she was sure more trauma and hurts lied behind the scenes. She settled on her grandmother's wisdom and hoped it could salvage what would have been a pleasant evening with a possible friend. "Wishing is really punishing yourself with impossibilities, that's what my grandma always said. It's true for medicine and for life."

Pepper's eyes snapped to Christine's, analytical and cautious before closing them as a small, tired smile formed. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, I'm totally sharing this pepper spray story with Stephen." Sensing the shift in the mood, Christine felt comfortable to try for levity. "I suspect it has the makings of a good cautionary tale for respecting women in the workplace."

"I guess that's one way to look at it." A real laugh bubbled out of Pepper as she launched into her 'origin story,' as Tony fondly called it. 

 

**Three.**

Pepper and Christine met somewhat regularly after that, whenever their schedules allowed: coffee at Stark Tower, salads at Metro-General, movie nights at Pepper's, chili at Christine's, and so on. Tony and Stephen were wary at first, but the obvious improvements in the women's moods were worth the potential of any embarrassing and  _untrue_  stories being shared. Stephen was particularly thankful for Pepper's role in helping Christine navigate their breakup and subsequent friendship; if only he knew Pepper did no such thing and actually compiled a list of impressively creative and effective ways of ruining Stephen in every aspect of his life.  

"If I didn't swear to do no harm, I'd totally strangle him." Christine huffed, setting down her purse with more force than necessary.

"Make me your first call and no one would suspect a thing." Pepper offered, the way a  _good_  friend would. She also ordered their drinks in advance, the way a  _great_  friend would.

At that, Christine barked out a laugh, though it bordered on a sob. "I thought I could do this, be there for him. But he won't listen, he won't stop, he's so in debt I'm afraid he'll start selling his organs but no one would take his kidney after all the surgeries and meds, he babbles about ‘the body is a transport' and hasn't shaved in weeks. He can't see there is life outside of surgery, he's so stubborn and…" 

The medical community responded to Stephen's accident in three ways: lament, relief, and ridicule. All three guaranteed to send him into a rage, kicking over tables and chairs with his tremoring hands hanging uselessly by his sides. Christine had stayed, but she was approaching her limit.

When Christine stopped to blow her nose, her face a mix of angry flush and hopeless pale, Pepper reached over and embraced her in a tight hug. "Is this a ‘help me solve my life' or more of a ‘listen to me vent but I got this' kind of talk? Because I'm here for you either way, just have to know what you need."

"The second one?" Christine ventured, eyes rimmed with red and nose twitching with congestion but a smile was visible.

Pepper nodded, "Then I'll get us another round."

Gratefully, Christine watched her go. Too often, people mistook her need to decompress to be a cry for help. She knew deep down that it was up to Stephen to accept his injuries and she was operating from a place of guilt and, she was ashamed to say, resentment. What she needed was a place for her to unleash the anger and frustration and fear without any feedback, helpful or not.

Pepper understood, and because of that, Christine accepted her friend's offer to sort out Stephen's financial mess when he took off without any explanation a month later.

 

**Four.**

Pepper showed up at Christine's apartment with a bottle of wine and little notice. A simple request carrying a multitude of questions –  _can I come over?_  – texted over a little before midnight.

Christine sent her reply –  _of course_  – and paced in her living room until she heard Pepper's distinct footsteps clicking closer to her door. She had the door open before Pepper had a chance to knock.

They shuffled onto the couch, the wine sat unopened on the coffee table and a stretch of ambiguous silence that hovered between comfort and discomfort settled over them.

"So," Christine started, tentative and careful. "What's going on?"

Pepper took a deep breath, then her words rushed out with a sharp exhale. "Tony's building something and pulling away again, he says he's invested but what is he invested in and what percentage of that investment is me? I wake up and he's not there, I go to sleep and he's not there, he's just not there. I thought I can stop being scared after he blew up the suits but I'm still scared for him all the time and scared for me because of how scared I am for him and it just loops over and over and I want it all to stop."

Christine reached over, resting her hand securely over her friends' trembling ones as Pepper finally put her emotions into long rambling run-on sentences without pause. It wasn't more than ten minutes, the clock display on the microwave shining brighter than usual in the near darkness of her apartment, but the energy required to process the sheer amount of information made it feel much longer.

"Is this a ‘help me solve my life' or more of a ‘listen to me but I got this' kind of talk?" Christine asked, borrowing her friend's wise words from what seemed like a lifetime ago.

"The second one." Pepper's eyes were dry, despite how emotional she had been, but they were bloodshot. "Thanks."

"Any time." Christine nodded, heading into the kitchen for the wine opener and glasses. "I know you got this."

 

**Five.**

" _Magic_." Christine started, taking a generous sip of her margarita.

" _Aliens_." Pepper countered, stirring her own margarita with the decorative umbrella. She had requested for a new one – red – after crumbling the blue one that came with the drink.

"Magic  _assassins_."

"Alien  _gods_."

"Stephen's  _astral_   _body_  telling me how to treat his physical body that was  _bleeding to death_."

"Tony flew a  _nuke into a space portal_."

"Stephen's calling himself Sorcerer Supreme." Christine wrinkled her nose at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

"Tony has been calling himself Iron Man for years." Pepper shrugged, unmoved by her friend's plight. Then she shift the focus of her grievances to the personal. "I haven't been able to watch Gilmore Girls because Tony goes manic whenever they drink or mention  _coffee_."

"At least you can still watch it, Stephen  _ruined_  Grey's Anatomy for me." A smirk was Pepper's only warning before Christine laid down the winning hand, "Also, he has a sentient cloak that thinks it's a superhero meant to protect vintage dresses."

"Wait, seriously?" Pepper coughed into her drink.

Christine did a weird little victory dance that shared a concerning amount of similarity to a toddler gesturing to be picked up. "Yes, seriously. It hid from the washing machine and  _flew_  out of the shower the one time I managed to trick it. I've taken it to twelve dry-cleaners and it escaped  _every time,_  but not without some attempt to rescue clothes that are  _older than me_."

Pepper valiantly tried to stifle her laughter and failed spectacularly, her body shaking with mirth. "I needed that." She said, the giggles left behind a smile that brightened her face.

"Happy to help, now help me!" Christine's plea was half joking and half desperation. "This is not a ‘listen to me vent' situation because I do  _not_  got this."

The smile faded away and Pepper started breaking the crumbled blue umbrella into even smaller pieces, eyes drawn downward and lips pursed. "We have this cleaning spray you can try. Tony came up with for battle suits, because  _someone_  raised an issue about laundry services being  _wasteful_." She struggled to catch herself before the bitterness could overwhelm her.

Christine was fairly certain Pepper was talking about Steve Rogers, an ignorant and dangerous man best known for his uncompromising stand against The Accords and subsequent criminal activities. Tony's injuries from Siberia were extensive and Christine shuddered inwardly at how a man who supposedly stood for trustworthiness could betray a friend so ruthlessly; but this wasn't the time nor place to get into it, so she settled on a snort and keeping it light. "If I didn't send out my laundry, I'd be without underwear."

Pepper cracked a thankful half-hearted smile, "Anyway, he's not around anymore and it's all yours if you want it."

"I'll try anything at this point. I can swing by tomorrow?"

Sitting up abruptly and taking a deep breath, Pepper asked, "Why don't we meet up tomorrow, all  _four_ of us? Maybe dinner?"

 

**One.**

"I don't know if this is such a good idea." Christine said, fingers gathering into nervous fists before releasing them to drum arhythmically on the granite countertop.

Pepper wasn't much better, but she understood there could only be one person panicking at a time, so she remained the voice of reason. "It'll be fine, FRIDAY knows to activate the sprinklers if it gets out of hand."

"Looking forward to it, boss lady." The dulcet tones of FRIDAY belied the mischief evident in her anticipation.

Christine shot an amused look at the ceiling, she sobered slightly as she considered her next words, "It's just… Stephen won't talk about what happened in Hong Kong, other than that  _technically_   _nothing happened_. Wong told me about Mordo leaving, which I think is a bigger deal than Stephen lets on."

Pepper tilted her head in the universal gesture of ‘go on.'

"He's never really had friends, I don't really count given our history." She preempted Pepper's objection. "In fact, I'm pretty sure his only friend is that smelly cloak, which I bribed with the  _promise of pampering_  to make sure it drags Stephen along tonight."

"The spray bottle has several settings, I'm sure it will find one of them…relaxing?" Pepper cleared her throat, though Christine was sure it was a stifled laugh. 

"Let's hope so." She managed an optimistic shrug. "I'm more worried about Stephen than the cloak, to be honest. He can be difficult even when he's on his best behavior, and no one ever gave him the benefit of the doubt."

"Oh, Tony gets that." Pepper replied, an edge of iron in her voice. "I wish he didn't but he totally gets it."

They only talked about the former Avengers once, when Pepper called her in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon – not a time one normally associates with a hysterical string of questions about  _crushed ribs and pneumonia._ Christine met Pepper at the airport, Tony was mostly stabilized but still in a rather precarious condition pending possible complications. Pepper, however, was anything but stable. She alternated between naïve bewilderment and pure rage, eventually deciding on disregarding the  _why_  and focusing entirely on the  _who._

They debated The Accords sometimes, addressing the pros and cons of proposed amendments from the view point of those who were non-enhanced by nature but considered enhanced by association. After all, Tony built Pepper her own suit and Christine was certain Stephen set up protection wards around her.

What they discussed most frequently was the similarities between Tony and Stephen.

Both men had parents who focused too much on achievements instead of affection, suffered peers who envied their fast advancements and accomplishments, and preened under the scrutiny of a fickle audience. The last one most likely contributed to the impractical amount of time they spend on their facial hair – the day Christine found the Buzzfeed article ranking their respective beard designs was a glorious day, then she sent it to Pepper, who promptly excused herself from a board meeting and inadvertently caused a minor and temporary dip in Stark Industries' stocks.

Tony and Stephen could possibly be fantastic friends or resentful rivals. The chances of them recognizing their own faults were equaled to the chances of them forgiving those same faults in the other.

"So, Stephen got a letter from Everett Ross today, requesting his ‘expertise on all matters magical.' It was sealed with wax and the Hogwarts emblem." Christine said with overt casualness, trying to lighten the mood and reassure her friend. "We both support The Accords, we are doctors and we  _know_  the importance of accountability."

"Hogwarts, hm?" The caustic sharpness in Pepper's voice dulled considerably. "I don't think Everett has the imagination for-"

"Did you just indirectly refer to yourself as a Gilmore Girl?" Stephen's particular baritone carried well through the open floor plan of the penthouse.

"Excuse you, I was declaring my undying love for coffee and  _directly_  calling myself a Gilmore Girl, McDreamy." Tony's reply was muffled by the cloak, which he was misting thoroughly with the cleaning solution.

"Why, thank you for the compliment on my luxuriously thick head of hair and devastatingly good looks, Optimus." Stephen paused. The cloak detaching itself from his shoulders and floated away, seemingly satisfied by and appreciative of Tony's efforts.

Tony sputtered indignantly, "Iron Man is an independently powered exoskeleton at the height of robotic and mechanic design, you heathen."

"Would clarifying that I was referencing Michael Bay's version help?"

At that grave insult, Tony pointed a shaking, accusatory finger at Stephen, "Not at all, Harry Potter!"

"I knew it." Pepper mouthed triumphantly, attention already snapping back to Tony and Stephen.

"I will concede your correspondence was the most stylish one that I've seen so far."

"I am a most stylish man."

A sly brow slowly arched up as Stephen assessed Tony's outfit. "This is what you consider stylish?"

"At least I don't dress like I'm heading to Mordor, Frodo." Tony shot back.

"Of the two of us, I'd say you share more physical resemblance with a hobbit." Stephen said, drolly.

Tony's incensed growl triggered FRIDAY's Cooler Heads Protocol, which was thankfully limited only to where the two men stood.

Pepper and Christine collapsed against each other, breathless with laughter. FRIDAY's apology didn't sound entirely sincere. Tony and Stephen bonded over the  _trauma_  of betrayal and ruined hair, their footsteps squishing against the tiled floor as they searched for towels in the nearest bathroom – where they found the cloak, draped indecently over a bench in the dry sauna.

**Author's Note:**

> [dls-ao3.tumblr.com](https://dls-ao3.tumblr.com/)


End file.
